The Wedding and the War
by Platform9and3-4
Summary: A Fremione Fanfic. Fred and Hermione are caught up in the mistakes of their past as the world around them sinks ever deeper into the second Wizarding War. Will their love last? Can they fix the damage done?
1. Chapter 1

The Wedding and the War

A Fremione Fanfic.

I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

Chapter 1:

Ron lay in his cot, his face caught in the glow of the small, makeshift lantern Hermione had conjured up with her wand and a mason jar to contain the flame. A breeze rustled the tent walls gently and there was only the noise of Hermione flipping lazily through pages of her books, a snitch fluttering half-heartedly between Harry's hands and the soft background noise of the trio's transistor radio. The station was broadcasting soulful blues guitar.

Ron gazed at Hermione. As she poured over her book, her curly hair fell onto the pages. Beside the book there was a leaf of paper covered in scribbles and symbols and above it she held a quill, ready for note taking should she have any breakthroughs. Ron noticed she thumbed the top left corner of the page mindlessly, which all seemed to be browning and wearing from the friction. It was a cute, thoughtful habit.

The song had ended and the announcer's voice came on, weary and saddened. "It's that time of day again, ladies and gentlemen. Here's your list of the bravely departed." And he began. Every back in the tent stiffened and Ron stretched forward quickly to turn up the volume, but rather than putting it down, he clung to it and stared intently at the speakers.

As soon as the announcer's voice came on, Hermione strained her ears and prayed she didn't hear any of the names on her list of loved ones. Even with her parents' minds obliviated and them vacationing in Australia, she couldn't be sure of their safety, although their chances were higher than most. She prayed hardest for the Weasley family. They were the ones she was most afraid for. She had Ron and Harry with her so she knew they were safe. And while there were schoolmates and professors she feared for, her most desperate concern was for the family that had housed her on breaks, given her gifts like she was one of their own children and taken care of her when she was in the most need of it after the increasingly dangerous incidents she had had with Harry and Ron.

As the announcer came to the alphabetization of the W's, Hermione's body shook with the intensity of all her muscles straining to hold her together. Without knowing it, she too had turned to the radio and was on the edge of her bench, her knuckles held a white grip on the seat.

Ginny, her dear friend and most missed correspondent, her hand trembled with the fear of hearing her name. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, a second set of parents, she shut her eyes to try to block imagining the pain at losing them. George, like a mischevious older brother, she held her breath. And Fred…her heart stopped. Had the announcer said it? Even Ron's face had grown pale. But then his face relaxed and she realized the name had been Frank Wesley.

Her mouth was dry and as she swallowed her fear away she caught Ron's eye. He looked at her with relief in his face and his eyes looked at her tenderly if only for a moment before looking down shyly, turning the volume back down as the announcer put on another record. Hermione retreated to her book. She felt almost ashamed of the look of tenderness Ron had given her.

She tried to read from the book that Dumbledore had given her, but they were children's stories. They were repetitive and childish and she'd read them a thousand times before. She could do nothing but stare at the letters on the page and think of Fred.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

This fanfic includes excerpts from the original texts: _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ and _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. These excerpts will be inserted in a bold font to differentate. I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

Hermione was seeing everyone out of the Room of Requirement after a rather long DA meeting. She was exhausted. Term exams were coming up in only eight weeks and she'd been studying rigorously, sacrificing precious sleep to review notes and quiz herself. She ushered a first year out after checking the halls. Ron had already left, leading a group of younger students safely to the Gryffindor common room. Harry was hastily gathering his things before running off after Cho Chang, who Hermione had noticed give him a few secret looks. Hermione guessed they had a prearranged meeting place.

Finally Hermione was the last one left in the large, empty room. She checked corners and easy to miss spaces for lost or left behind items to return to the other DA members later. Finding only some candy wrappers and a button, Hermione returned to her bag. She pulled her hoody on and slipped her books into her satchel.

She turned to the old cracked and stained mirror where they had tacked photos of family members and friends who had died at the hands of Voldemort. She brushed her hair out of her face and examined the bags under her eyes. She sighed.

A hand slipped into hers and she saw in the mirror standing beside her, her favorite ginger. He wore the all-too-familiar grin on his freckled face and his golden brown eyes seemed to melt all the tension from her body. She turned to look up at him, smiling softly. It turned quickly into a look of concern as a frown flickered across her face when she noticed an almost perfectly concealed cut on his lower lip.

"What have you done to yourself?" she whispered, exhaustion creeping into her. She was beginning to give in to the darkness of the times that had begun at Hogwarts—the oppression under Umbridge's rule and the ill omens that the DA meetings increasingly implied…that war was inevitable. Fred's jostle and his attempt to hide it from Hermione only added to the strain.

Fred's brow furrowed as he kissed her forehead and pulled her close to him. "It was only a skiff with one of Umbridge's watchdogs," he assured her. He pulled her away to look smile at her and add, "I won."

Hermione tried to smile, but her lips wobbled and she began to cry.

"Hey now, love!" he cooed, drawing her in. He didn't ask her why she cried, he only held her until her sobs subsided.

When she was finished, she sniffled and laid her head against his chest, listening to the assuring thump of his heart. "Beats for you," he mumbled into her ear. She hugged him tight. "I have a proposition for you," he said.

Reluctantly, Hermione let go of him. He began his pitch. "George and I have saved up a bit. Placing bets and selling the snack boxes, and our earnings have come up to a substantial amount." Hermione's eyes narrowed trying to understand where this might be going. "Now, you know George and I have no real need to stay at Hogwarts. We excel at what we're good at and we leave the rest—and it's of no consequence to us. We don't mind failing exams." He smiled. "And we always knew that we wouldn't stick it out all the way through—"

"What are you talking about Fred?" Hermione didn't like where this was headed. He hurriedly placed his hands on her shoulders to soothe her.

" 'Mione, you knew it too! As much as you love your studies, you've always known George and I to have no academic ambitions. We've always been more business minded than anything else."

"And?" Hermione was confused.

"And so we bought a place…" His sentences began to drag and he hesitated more, waiting for her reaction at every stop. "In Diagon Alley. We've already developed a commercial interest here and we've finally worked out the kinks in a lot of our products." Hermione raised an eyebrow, waiting. "And we…we won't be finishing this year out, love."

The room was silent. No wind against the window, no mice in the walls, no snores of portraits wafting in from outside the heavy door. All the better to hear her pounding heart.

"You're leaving Hogwarts?" she said in a surprisingly calm voice, which Fred knew to be only the quiet before the storm. And then in a smaller voice, "You're leaving me?"

Loud protests erupted from Fred. Hermione argued back. The two were a swirl of flailing gestures and open arms trying to reconcile. How could Fred leave her? Right on the brink of what she was sure was a war? With all the responsibilities of running the DA and school and worrying about everything else. And, more personally, how could he separate himself from her? Right on the brink of war…a separation could be for good and they'd never see each other again. But Hermione didn't say this to him.

"What about us, Fred?" She threw her hands up. "Are you throwing us away as well as school?" She would have to stop throwing his education into the argument. It meant nothing to him. "We've been together so long and now it's done? I'm to be left alone here? Harry has a one track mind, bent on Voldemort and Ron, you may not know, is a rather poor excuse for company nowadays since my rejecting his affections." Fred kept trying to throw a word in every now and then to no avail. Hermione was crying tears of rage as she shouted. "No one could replace you, Fred, I can't believe you'd ask me to forget you and go one here without—"

"HANG ON!" Fred bellowed. And although he hadn't intended to, he shouted the next few words as well, "Haven't I offered you a proposition?"

Hermione's eyes were wide and she seemed to shrink at the strength and volume in his voice. There were paths of tears cutting down her cheeks and her eyes were swimming. The sight of her made him want to rush at her and hold her, but he didn't. He'd planned this and although none of it had gone his way, the situation may yet be salvaged.

"I never once even suggested we end it. Not once. And I can't believe you'd think it of me. I'm just as afraid of everything as you are, Hermione." His voice was softening. "There's no point in me continuing at Hogwarts, but I would never leave you."

He suddenly looked very nervous as he checked all his pockets and then flicked his wand and muttered the summoning charm under his breath. She couldn't hear what he'd said, but she heard it coming. He caught a small box in his large hands.

He struggled to open it and then thrust it out, blurting, "Come with me. Marry me, Hermione." Remembering, he quickly got down on one knee. Her silence was pure torment. His mouth opened and out came a sudden torrent of pleads and assurances. "We bought a place with an apartment up top, it's small, but there's plenty room. And we're young, but there's no time to wait—you mentioned the war yourself. And if you're worried about money, you shouldn't be, everything's so promising and…"

He continued not noticing that she had fallen to her knees in front of him. She scooted close to him and taking his face in her hands she kissed him mid-plead. The silence now was warm and tender as they kissed and hugged.

Back in the tent, Hermione's lids lifted slowly, but she was wide awake. Someone had just put a blanket over her where she sat at the table. She had fallen asleep reading and dreamed her memories. She heard Ron's bed creak as he sunk back into it. She squeezed her eyes tight trying to shut out the guilt she felt at letting Ron continue to bestow his affections on her. There was nothing she could do really, he knew everything. Everyone did.

Waiting for Ron to fall asleep, Hermione tried to hold onto her dream. She could still feel Fred's kisses on her lips…in her hair, on her forehead, on her cheeks. She could still feel his arms around her, warm and strong. She was so safe in his arms. But out here…in the woods. She felt so alone. She always felt uneasy and targeted. She didn't know if it was the eyes of the snatchers she always imagined on her back or if it was the presence of the locket that perturbed her.

That night in the Room of Requirement had been blissful. She accepted his proposal and they had sunk into a wide, fluffy loveseat in front of a window and fell asleep curled up in each other's arms. After that night of course, they had continued to argue. Hermione was torn. At the time all she could see was the present—not what mattered. Her education still meant the world to her. She couldn't leave Hogwarts. She begged him to stay with her but he reminded her that regardless he would still have to leave before her.

He continued to plead her own points to her—kept bringing up the oncoming war and how little education would matter then, but she wouldn't hear it. In the end, she asked him to just wait for her. They would correspond and see each other during the holidays while she finished up at Hogwarts and then they would be married. As soon as she got out.

Ron was asleep now. She could hear him snoring. She got up and crept to the opening of the tent. Hugging the blanket around her, she stepped outside into the chill. She sat down and the twigs and leaves crunched beneath her. She pulled out a chain from around her neck. On it was a small gold ring. There was an opal set in the middle and that was all. It was plain and simple, but it was beautiful. It was her engagement ring. It had been his grandmother's. Molly had given it to him with her and Arthur's blessing.

She kissed the opal and wept. How little it all mattered now. She herself hadn't even finished Hogwarts. She had left just as suddenly as Fred had. How much better it would have been had she gone with him. They'd be married now…her family would have gotten the chance to know him, they'd be together, maybe he even would have come on this quest with her. Maybe he would have convinced her to stay.

As it was, no one even knew of their engagement. Hermione had tried to give the ring back but Fred had said he could think of no reason he'd ever need it back. It was hers and so was he. But with no one knowing, people—namely Ron—had started to believe they had moved on. Ron considered himself back in the game and he was slowly trying to win Hermione's affections, as determined as ever.

He just couldn't understand that he was the wrong Weasley.


	3. Chapter 3

I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

Chapter 3:

Ron heard Hermione leave the tent. Not much could cause her to rise from her studies, but if it were anything, Ron could guess what. It was Fred. Ron remembered seeing them together for the first time, just before the fourth year started. He remembered the sting of what he felt was betrayal.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. They were all trudging through the wee hours of the morning to get to the portkey on Stoatshead Hill just on the other side of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. They were to meet the Diggory's there to head to the Quidditch World Cup.

They were a rather groggy group of seven (Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Mr. Weasley), but even in the darkness, Ron was sure he caught Fred and Hermione stealing glances at each other, and at one point even drift toward one another and hold hands as they walked. Ron had been quick to dismiss as the excitement of the World Cup loomed ahead and he quite forgot.

It was after the game, that night, after all the festivities had died down and everyone was in bed, or appeared to be. The inside of the tent was quiet, though outside, the Irish enthusiasts were still lighting fireworks, singing and drinking in excitement. Fourteen-year-old Ron had risen from his bunk on a quest for a midnight snack. He entered the kitchen, rummaged through the cabinets, but as Mrs. Weasley had not come with them to the match, there was hardly anything to be found and Ron settled for the breakfast biscuits he found.

Ron leaned against the sink as he munched, his eyes full of sleep. He stopped his loud chewing when he thought he heard muffled voices. They seemed to come from nearby. In the spirit of eavesdropping, he peered out of the window flap curiously, but all he could see was the neighboring tent and a bush that rustled in the wind.

He started with a jolt when the voices sounded so closely and the bush fell and rose with a small giggle. It was then that he matched Hermione's giggle with Hermione's hair and realized the accompanying voice belonged to his brother, Fred.

The two spoke softly to each other, fearing being found out. And then, without notice, Fred's head dropped down from its height, hurriedly and resolved, and kissed Hermione's lips. Thinking back now, Ron realized how meek and small the kiss actually was. It was innocent and unsure and sweet…a first kiss.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she stared up at him, raising unaware fingers to her lips to feel where he had left a tingle. Suddenly, she took off running. Ron, stunned, remained where he stood, not thinking of what it would look like when she rushed in. But there was a scream—which rose from Hermione's throat, he was sure—and as Fred rushed to her, the night melted into the nightmare that Voldemort's Death Eaters created with the floating bodies and Dark mark.

Summer was over.

Ron could feel the ticking of the locket against his chest. It reminded him of the relentless trudging of time, or perhaps the bomb inside him, ready to explode with every thought of what Fred had stolen from him.

His eyes flew shut as Hermione came back into the tent. He didn't have to look. He knew her eyes would be red. Harry stirred and Hermione went to him. They talked in hushed tones so that Ron could not hear, but he could hear her gasping for air as she cried silently. She seemed to trust anyone but Ron with her sorrows.

Ron knew this was just another night added to the many that separated he and Hermione. Ron was constantly excluded, and he knew why. Hermione could not bear to talk to him or look at him for the similarities that caused painful, secret memories to rise up. Or was it her disdain for him?


	4. Chapter 4

I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

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Chapter 4

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Harry and Hermione were gushing at a breakthrough. They were raising their voices and gesturing wildly. Hermione's eyes were bright with excitement. Harry, calling out for Ron's opinion, turned around. His brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes searched the tent for Ron.

"Ron?" he called.

Ron's stony eyes glared out from the shadows of his bottom bunk. "Remembered me have you?" he growled.

What ensued was the darkest, heaviest eruption of Harry, Ron ad Hermione's relationship together. Ron, tired of being stuck in a corner to "heal" and be ignored by his best friend and the girl he was possibly in love with (who also happened to be his brother's lover if not fiance), had finally decided to stand up and be heard. And then disappointed. It seemed that Hermione preferred anyone to him.

She had stayed with Harry and while she cried out for him desperately into the darkened forest, he apparated away. The place he arrived was somewhere that had been on his mind all along.

There was a smell of Christmas baking and wood smoke. He opened his eyes and before him towered the Burrow. A warm light shed from the windows, but the air's quietness seemed heavy and padded as he crunched through the glistening snow.

He slipped through the kitchen door quietly. The sight was unexpected however. While the kitchen was usually in a state of disarray, it was clear that Mrs. Weasley was distressed greatly or else very distracted. Unfolded laundry lay scattered across every surface, along with dirty dishes as if she were too distracted to pick a task and see it to fruition. There was a single, clear path that lead from the clock to the window above the sink and Ron could picture his mother pacing back and forth, checking for signs of life from the clock and then hoping and searching the fields for signs of a long awaited return at the window.

Ron watched as the hand with his name on it swung wearily to "home." He noticed a worn chair that sat facing it with Mrs. Weasley's unfinished knitting occupying the seat.

Ron carefully moved from the kitchen to the living room. Mrs. Weasley was slumped against Ron's dad, her head on his shoulder, her cheeks tear-stained, and although she appeared to be asleep, her face did not appear any more at peace.

Mr. Weasley looked up from the paper and peered over his glasses looking at Ron. Realization passed over his features. "Ronald?" he rasped.

Molly woke with a start. For a moment she gazed at him, stunned and then began to weep as she ran at him. Arthur called for George, Fred and Ginny, who came tumbling grumpily from upstairs. When they saw Ron, they all rushed down to greet him.

Ginny was crying and the twins rejoiced and for once Ron felt relieved to be wanted.

When everyone stopped for a breather and Mrs. Weasley began to fuss over Ron's splinch wounds, they began asking him what had happened. They bombarded him with questions until, before Ron could answer any of them, Ginny asked,

"Where are they?"

Ginny and Fred looked over Ron's shoulder hopefully.

"Who?" Ron asked, confused. So happy to see his family, he had forgotten all about the quarrel with the other two, and even forgotten Harry and Hermione themselves completely. He was home. Shouldn't that be enough?

"Harry and Hermione, of course!" exclaimed Ginny impatiently. He'd anticipated dealing with Fred, but he'd not had a constant reminder of this relationship. Feeling sorry for himself and then suddenly angry, he muttered, "They didn't come."

There was an awkward and confused silence.

"Didn't come, meaning you left them?" Fred accused. Ron could feel his stony expression.

"I didn't!" Ron bellowed. Then pleading, "You don't know…how hard…" He only felt more and more selfish and ashamed with every word that tumbled out. It wasn't supposed to be this way. They were supposed to welcome him home with open arms!

Fred only stared. Then he turned to leave.

"I'm sure they'll be okay," Ginny assured weakly, her eyes brimming. Molly brushed off as well and distractedly rushed to make him supper, babbling at how thin he'd become. Ron suddenly realized he'd only added to their worries.

Ron lay in his old bed, staring up at the familiar Chudlley Cannons posters and realizing how small everything felt. He folded his arms behind his head. After spending months thinking and trying to decipher how to find and destroy horcruxes, after being on the front lines of a war, it seemed strange to find himself back in his room staring at the memorabilia of his childhood, and trying to feel excited that he'd be home for Christmas.

The door flew open. Ron sat up straight in surprise and was hit in the face with a quaffle that had been on his desk by the door.

"Fred, don't!" cried Ginny, grasping at him as he rushed toward Ron.

"COWARD!" he bellowed, "TRAITOR!"

"Hang on!" spluttered Ron weakly, his face blanching.

"Have you any idea what you've done?" Fred's hands were flying. "Have you any idea how much we've been doing here, trying to keep you all safe, trying to fight this war, trying to protect and help you? Do you know the danger we're in here?! For you! And you have the guts to just walk off and negate it all and decide it's not your battle anymore. In addition…" Fred's breathing was heavy and his face red, "You leave them alone. Just the two of them out there…"

"It's not any different with me gone," Ron muttered, "They're always hanging over each other."

Fred's eyes narrowed and he suddenly became furious. Ginny tried to calm him. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you ASS!" As he sunk onto the bed, he dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "It's not even about that. She's not even yours to be jealous for." He sat for a moment. "The point," he continued, "Is that Ginny and I would have gladly taken your place to be with them and help them. Protect them. Do whatever it took." Ginny hid her eyes and began to sniffle. "And you just walk out." Fred looked into Ron's eyes. Ron couldn't meet them. His heart was sinking lower and lower. "I'm ashamed to call you my brother."

"Fred!" Ginny exclaimed in disbelief. But Fred only rose and left.

Ron looked away as Ginny approached him. She hugged her brother and wiped her eyes. "We just thought…" She swallowed and then finished, "That you'd all come home together."

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	5. Chapter 5

I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

Chapter 5:

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Back at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Fred hid in the shop apartment. He sat in the window seat, staring out at the dirty, abandoned Diagon Alley.

He looked down at the books in his hands. He rose to place them on one of the many bookshelves in the apartment. He had been preparing to bring Hermione here to live. He had almost bought her a vanity set or an antique wardrobe, to make the place a little more feminine. But on second thought, knew she would prefer bookshelves to anything else.

In the summer before her sixth year, he'd succeeded in convincing her to leave school and get married by the following summer. It would be a year more than he had hoped to wait when he proposed, but it was something. They'd be older at least. She'd brought all her books to the apartment in anticipation. She came to visiton the holidays and loved to read at the window seat. He'd bought her bookshelves and she'd filled them with her favorites: autobiographies, histories, textbooks and even some fiction.

After Dumbledore's death at the end of her sixth year, however, she had made up her mind not to go back for a seventh year. But it wasn't to be with Fred. Harry needed her and Ron—the war had started.

So she left and Fred just kept filling her bookshelves. Hoping every day that she was still alive and rejoicing every time the trio's names didn't show up in the Daily Prophet.

He sat on the bed he had meant to share with her. He tried to remember the last time they were truly happy. Back when they had little, or at least less, to worry about, when they still thought they'd be together.

It was the week before exams in her fifth year, a week before he and George had left to set up shop.

He had set up their meeting whilst on an outing to Hogsmeade, but other than that it was a surprise. Hermione was to meet him at the quidditch field after dark. It was hard to lure her out on exams week, but Fred had convinced her and she had picked up his zeal for breaking the rule over the years so he might even get to have her a little after curfew as well.

He sat in one of the tall tower bleachers and waited for her in the dark. She came finally, holding her ignited wand—not to illuminate her path, but her book. She walked slowly, muttering to herself.

Fred hopped on his broom and flew down to her, joyous to see her again even though he'd just seen her at dinner. She jumped and dropped her book when he whispered in her ear from behind,

"I thought I'd finally lured you away from your books for once."

She hit his shoulder playfully and laughed as she picked up her book. "Not even YOU could do that, charming though you are."

He grinned down at her and kissed her. She tugged on his robes to draw him closer as he tangled his hand in her soft curls.

"What's this about then?" she demanded, drawing away. "Because as much as I love you, I refuse to be out past curfew. Exams are only a week away and I'm on a very tight studying schedule."

Fred presented his broom and she looked at him quizzically. He swung a leg over and gestured for her to climb on in front of him. She began to shake her head and back away.

"Fred, I got out of learning to fly a broom in first year because of Harry making trouble with Draco, chasing after Neville's remembrall, and I've never been expected to ride one since. I refuse get on that thing." She was steadily edging away from him, but he grabbed her wrist in time to pull her closer.

"I've been riding since I could walk Hermione, trust me," he assured. She frowned at him. "Nothing will happen to you. Come on."

"I will not _come on_, Frederick Weasley!" she declared nervously. "What about my book anyway? I can't be expected to hold onto it and the broom at the same time."

"I'll take it."

"What and I fall off because you've got your hands too full to hold onto me!"

He showed her the messenger bag that was slung over his shoulder. She began to get really nervous now. He grabbed the book from her hands and stuffed it into his bag. "Now you have to come. I won't give you your book back if you don't."

She glared at him and then slowly, but visibly, her resolve began to dissolve and she climbed carefully onto the broom in front of him. "Will it take our weight?" she asked, unsure. Fred didn't answer and she began to panic as they rose and their feet dangled. She began to talk very fast. "I changed my mind Fred, you can keep the book, I'll borrow Parvati's, just set me down now. I'll meet you wherever you want, just set me down!"

She let out a small squeal and Fred leaned forward and the broom shot up into the sky. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer against him, gripping the broom in front of her. He took her up, above the Forbidden Forest, gliding over the trees. He let her toes drag lightly against the topmost leaves and then he pulled up again, poking through a fluffy cloud.

His heart was soaring. The girl he loved was in his arms and they were flying away from all their troubles. The world was forgotten and only they existed. Her hair flew in his face and he nuzzled her neck and smelled her. She was too nervous or excited to giggle the way she normally would.

"Fred," she gasped, "It's beautiful. I've never seen it this way."

He looked up and saw the half moon, floating just above the horizon of their clouds, its beams glinting off the white and illuminating everything around them. "It's so close," she breathed. Fred looked down at her hands, gripping the broom, her skin pale in the moonlight. He could see the curve of her cheek and her long eye lashes. She hardly blinked, her eyes wide, to take in the sight and steal it to her heart forever.

"Whatever happens," Fred whispered too quietly for her to hear, "This is how I'll always remember you. This is where we'll always be happy." He kissed her shoulder. "I love you, Hermione."

Hermione looked back at him, twisting cautiously. Her smile was huge and her eyes were glittering. She kissed him softly on the chin, then his cheeks and his neck and down his arm. She came back up for a kiss on the lips. "I love you," she gushed, her voice breathy. He smiled down at her.

He leaned to the left and they turned away from the moon, speeding back toward the school. They landed on the astronomy tower where Fred had laid down a blanket, stolen some deserts from the kitchen and somehow collected all Hermione's books and parchment together.

She looked at him confused. "So you can still get your studying in," he smiled. "I just wanted to be with you."

She smiled and gave him kisses. They sat on the edge of the largest window, they're feet dangling down the side of the castle, staring up at the moon and Fred held her.

She studied and he watched her, they studied the sky through the telescope—with sighs on Hermione's part because it just "wasn't the same"—and they reveled in each other's company. It was a perfect night. And it _was_ how he always remembered her, glowing in the moonlight. His Hermione.

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	6. Chapter 6

I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

Chapter 6:

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Christmas came and went, and Ron left to go find Harry and Hermione. Fred longed to go with him. They had spoken in anger on more than one occasion. But it seemed that Fred only grew angrier and angrier and Ron only accepted his due shame. It didn't make Fred feel any better.

Ginny always tried to make Ron feel better but Fred knew she suffered the same agonies he did. They both loved someone out there and they'd been left alone. They were separated from the ones they loved and as much as they hoped, times were dire and it was entirely possible they may never see them alive again.

Fred tried to take his mind off things by working as hard as he could, pouring all his time into developing new products for the shop. George worried over him, but said nothing. He understood. They joked as much as they ever did, but Fred's heart wasn't in it. It was all for show.

One day as Fred was walking down Diagon Alley for a breather, thinking of Hermione, there was a commotion down at Gringotts. For lack of anything better to do, he jogged over to the scene. People were pouring out the large front doors, screaming. The Goblins were rushing out, their never-changing scowls etched into their faces.

"What is it?" he asked a nearby witch.

"Someone's broken into Gringotts!" she exclaimed.

"But that's impossible," he contradicted. "They won't be able to find their way out."

She sniffed. "You go in then! I don't dare go anywhere near. Security is all in a tizzy in there, running around shouting that the culprits have harnessed a _dragon_! It guards one of their most high security vaults. Quite the scandal!" she assured him.

Fred looked at the bank looming so high, blocking the light of the sun. He was amazed. He couldn't imagine why anyone would or how they could possibly succeed in robbing Gringotts. Suddenly there was a rumble and the earth shook. He balanced himself and looked wildly around him. With a loud crash, the top of Gringotts Bank burst. Debris flying everywhere, Fred was still able to shield himself enough to watch what was happening.

A large, pale dragon stretched its wings above Diagon Alley, screamed and hovered there for a moment. Fred thought he saw three figures clinging to its back, one of them guiding it with the chain that had previously caged it so many miles below.

He saw a flash of red hair and recognized his brother, even from so far away. His heart leapt. She was there! Just above him. He could see her hair flying as she clung to the figure in front of her—Harry, he was sure. He caught himself about to shout her name, but thought better of it, for her safety.

The dragon flapped and the wind its wings created stirred up the dirt and leaves in the Alley. It swirled all around him. And then without warning, the dragon flew away, slowly at first and then gliding, regaining its strength after its long imprisonment. Fred's heart wretched within him as he saw it disappear into the sun.

He suddenly became aware of the screams in the Alley, the witch he'd spoken with clutching him and that his face was wet. She'd been here. She'd been so close to him. She was alive! She looked well. Or rather, as well as a convict could on the back of a wild, screaming, escaping, stolen dragon.

He saw flashes of her appearing before him. The sight of her hair flying as the dragon's wings flapped put him in mind of their venture to see the moon, her hair softly beating against his face. The sight of her clinging to Harry brought him back to the last time he'd seen her… the last they'd spoken. And he wondered if Ron had given her the letter he'd commissioned him to deliver.

She'd been at the shop to see him, just after the term at Hogwarts had ended. Dumbledore's funeral had just taken place. On her way back to her family, she'd stopped to see him. She was crying. He'd led her to the laboratory in the back so they'd have more privacy.

She was hysterical as she explained everything that had happened and that Harry wasn't going back to school, that Dumbledore had given him a mission to carry out, a way to defeat Voldemort. She sobbed that Ron of course was going as well and then…then she threw herself upon him, clinging to him just the way he'd seen her clinging to Harry on the dragon's back. She was full of fear. Her body had been shaking and she'd finally gasped out,

"And I'm going too. There's nothing else for it."

Fred's heart had plunged deep inside him and he'd clutched her to him. He held her for dear life. She was supposed to be leaving school for him, not for Harry. They were supposed to be married by the end of the summer. Now she was going to disappear from him, possibly forever.

Her body shook as he held her. "Well?" she looked up at him incredulously. "Talk me out of it!"

He didn't say anything, only held her. After a long while, after he'd already begun crying himself, "I can't. You have to do this. Only you can help them win this war."

Her eyes drained of all hope and she buried her face in his chest, weeping. Finally she pulled herself away. With tremulous fingers, she pulled the engagement ring from her hand. She held it out to him. Fred's face, he was sure, displayed the brokenness he felt in his heart at her gesture.

"It's yours, Hermione," he said, shaking his head. Then planting a kiss on her lips, their tears mingling, he whispered, "I'm yours."

War had torn them apart, but he had faith that they would succeed. He still held out hope. Hope that, when all this was over, he would make her his. He would marry her and she would be safe with him always.

He looked up at the now empty sky. The sun glinted gold on the tops of the buildings and clouds as it began to set. There was no trace of her left. With the hubbub of distressed patrons and goblins trying to calm everyone down, Fred gazed upwards and thought of her. He recited the words of the letter he hoped Ron had given her:

I remain unabated

I have waited

And wait still.

While others have berated:

I love you

And always will.

* * *

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	7. Chapter 7

I do recognize that all characters and passages are the property of JK Rowling and I am not using them for profit in any way, but for creative purposes only.

Chapter 7

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They slunk into the Three Broomsticks, undetected, or at least, not caught. Aberforth was there and as intriguing as he was, Hermione's thoughts were elsewhere. She was sure the others' heads were full of racing thoughts as well. Who knew what would happen. This was it.

Yet all Hermione could think of was one simple question and it resounded in her ears: Was he here?

"Hermione!"

The cry was desperate and breathless. Hermione looked wildly around her. She knew that voice. Then she saw him. He was sweaty and his orange hair was dirty and mussed. He had a cut above his eyebrow and his arm was bleeding. He was running straight at her, leaping over piles of debris and racing up the steps.

Their bodies collided in a whirl of passion and they clutched at each other as though they thought if they lost contact for one second, they'd never see each other again. Fred scooped her up and kissed her hard, both their hearts pounding.

Without warning, Fred began to laugh. It was a rumbling that came deep from in his chest. It was a sound Hermione had dreamed of. And suddenly she began to join him. It was a freeing feeling, to feel so light and safe in his arms, even in the midst of the defining battle of the second wizarding war.

They kissed all over each other's faces and Fred buried his face in her neck, taking in her smell. "You're here, you're safe," he gasped, breathing hard. She tightened her hold on him, pressing his shoulders to herself.

"Always the tone of surprise," she scolded him endearingly.

"Hermione, I love you. I'm sorry I didn't…"

She shook her head and shushed him as she held him closer. "We're here now, Fred. We're together. Nothing else matters."

He took her hands and kissed them. "Marry me," he begged, "I can't lose you again."

"Fred," she laughed openly, "Look around you!" She gestured at the demolished staircase. "It'll have to wait."

"It's all arranged! As soon as this is all over, we're escaping to be married. At Bill and Fleur's. Even Mum's agreed to it. It'll be small. Just like I swore at the wedding last summer," he grinned. "If you'll have me."

Hermione leapt into his arms and he spun her around. Their joyous moment was interrupted, however by a deafening voice that echoed off the castle walls and seemed to emit from every direction.

"Give me Harry Potter," the voice hissed. It sent chills up Hermione's spine. She recognized the voice instantly. Voldemort. He offered up his ransom and when the transfer was to occur by and the halls fell silent.

Hermione's face was suddenly furrowed in fear. "Fred…I have to go."

"What? We've only just…you're not leaving me again!"

"I'll find you," she assured him, "but I have to find Ron. We have to find the last of the horcruxes and some way to destroy them."

"Horcruxes?"

Hermione cupped his face and brought it to hers, kissing him desperately hard, determined it wasn't the last time they kissed. And yet she took a moment to study all the features of his face. "I love you," she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. "I'll see you again soon. Go, Fred," she implored, pushing him away. She began jogging up the steps, taking them two at a time. Looking back, she saw him racing toward the Great Hall to find Harry.

She refused to think of what she was leaving behind. She was full of hope. He had waited!

She scurried away to find Ron. She couldn't think where he could be. But she suddenly realized where they could find something to destroy the horcruxes they found. The Chamber of Secrets was filled with basilisk fangs! She would figure out how to open the chamber once she got there. She raced for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

She reached the bathroom to find Ron already there. He was staring intently at one of the sink faucets, hissing to himself.

"Ron?" Hermione called. She was glad to see him. He looked up, surprised.

"I just thought that…well the chamber is full of basilisk fangs isn't it?"

"That's exactly what I thought, Ron," she smiled coming to him. "Do you know how to open it?"

"I was there when Harry opened it. I think I can remember what it sounded like. I almost had it when you walked in." He resumed his post in front of the faucet.

After hissing intently, there was a rumble and the chamber was opened. They slid down the tunnel that lead them down and climbed the pile of rubble Harry had created in their second year, trying to save Ginny after his battle with Tom Riddle.

Through the tunnels they ran, splashing through puddles. Their pants were becoming wet at the bottom and their shoes were soaked. They found the skeleton of the basilisk and tore a fang from its skull. Getting back was the harder part, but not as hard as finding Harry again.

Harry was delighted to see them again and to hear that Ron had thought to fetch them. They listened as Harry told them about the diadem and they made their way to the Room of Requirement where they met Ginny, Tonks and Neville's grandmother.

They ushered them out so that they could search the room for the Lost Diadem. Suddenly Ron remembered the house elves, that they'd be trapped down in the kitchens unless they left to go tell them. It was such a lovely gesture that he remembered Hermione's love for the house elves and that he finally seemed to be beyond thinking of only himself that in the excitement of the moment, Hermione dropped her fangs and ran at him, arms open. She threw them around his neck and full of joy, kissed him full on the mouth.

What she didn't expect was for him to counter, kissing her back, hard and passionate, swinging her about. She felt suddenly guilty and awkward. Harry cleared his throat.

There was a great battle in the Room of Requirement and they managed to escape with their lives and the diadem. Hermione, trying to brush the black off her jeans and pushing her singed hair out of her face looked up at Fred and Percy backed into view. They were fighting determinedly against two hooded Death Eaters.

Harry, Ron and Hermione leaped to their aid, casting jinxes and curses every which-way with great flashes of light. One beamed grazed against Hermione's cheek, and blood began to flow. She could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck and noticed she was hardly breathing. Her muscles ached. She was only happy, even in such danger, that she was side by side with her fiancé.

Percy, whose presence was most welcomed as his enthusiasm was in loyalty to his family for once, barked something at one of the Death Eaters as his hood slipped back to reveal the Minister of Magic. Fred threw back his head to laugh at the joke Percy had made. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw him smiling in the company of his older brother.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and Percy clung to each others' presence, staying as near each other as they could. The Death Eaters were sprawled on the stone floor, on Stunned, and the other Transfigured. There was an erruption and the castle shook. Torches flickered, the floor was unstable beneath them and suddenly debris was flung toward them.

Harry went flying. Hermione screamed and Ron was shouting. Hermione searched the room for Harry, who was half buried in the wreckage of the wall that had just been blown to bits. Hermione also had been thrown into the wreckage.

As Hermione staggered to her feet from among the wreckage, she saw three Weasleys grouped together, on their knees where the castle wall had been blasted apart. Harry took Hermione's hand and they stumbled over the debris. Hermione heard one of them shouting. Her ears were ringing from the explosion, and her eyes were clouded with dust. She could neither see nor hear clearly.

"No!" he shouted, "No, no, no! Fred! No!"

Percy was shaking the limp body, screaming. Ron was kneeling beside him silently and then Hermione saw it as the disorienting fog lifted from her brain. Fred's eyes, his beautiful eyes, staring and lifeless...a playful smile lingering on his soft and dirty lips.

He was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

I don't own anything.

Chapter 8: Final Chapter

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Hermione shuffled through the rubble of Hogwarts. Even with the use of magic, it would take time to rebuild the castle. The courtyard was demolished as well as much of the main parts of the castle. Even most of the greenery had been rent apart by stray curses landing in great fiery explosions. Much of the grass was either missing, piles of dirt and rock in its place, or reduced to ash. Hagrid's hut was gone, and much of the Forbidden Forest had been felled or burnt down.

She trudged in through the front doors of the castle, entering into the Great Hall. She looked out onto the grounds through the hole in the castle that mirrored the one in her heart.

In that moment, Hermione's life had torn apart. Her worst fears realized, she began to drown in the bursting of her own heart. Every day it wretched within her, knowing that she would never see him again.

They won the war, in the most confusing and miraculous of ways, but for Hermione, who had strived so hard to end it to be with her beloved Fred, now found herself wishing she were still in the midst of it. That was when he was still alive.

If only she had been the one to run off instead of Ron, that night in the woods. If only she'd dragged Fred from the castle when they were reunited to briefly. If only she had stayed with him and not been so loyal to Harry and Ron.

She was beyond tears now. It had only been a few weeks, but she had learnt that the best way to protect herself was to let none of it cross the surface. She buried it all deep inside, as deep as her love for Fred had once taken root.

She avoided meeting other wizards who were busy clearing out the rubble and restoring Hogwarts, little by little. She found herself wandering the halls, aimlessly taking turns and following passageways until she found herself completely lost. She was in a dungeon she thought. It must be, as she had scurried mindlessly down so many stairwells. She had felt that she was hurrying to a class, when she looked up from the floor to survey her surroundings, checking herself and realizing she didn't know where she was.

It was a sort of tunnel, far below Hogwarts, below even the potions dungeons. It was cold and she shivered as a stale gust of supernatural air blew toward her. She caught sight of a forlorn looking ghost coming toward her mournfully.

"Excuse me," Hermione called, but it passed her, sighing softly, eyes averted.

She decided instead of turning to find her way out, to go deeper into the castle. It was completely new to her and it almost made her forget the pain thrashing inside her.

She followed the tunnel which opened into a narrow corridor with only a couple of torches and one tapestry. She turned corner after corner until finally she reached the end of the corridor. It ended in an ancient looking door. Intricate carvings were etched into its frame and the wood was discolored and peeling. The latch and lock looked hundreds of years old, rusted and dusty. There was a dim green glow emitting from the space under the door. She approached slowly.

Her heart pounded in the same spirit of adventure she had become familiar with as a child exploring Hogwarts. She reached out and took hold of the latch. She stopped. She thought she heard a scuffling of shoes just inside, but after stopping to listen recognized it as a slow dripping, echoing toward her from inside.

She opened the door. It creaked wildly, startling her. She hurried inside and shut the door behind her.

There were no torches. No candles or chandelier to illuminate the surprisingly large space. Only a large window which took up nearly the whole back wall. The ceiling was so high she could not see it, only shadow. The dim greenness she had seen front under the door had been coming from the window. It was a brilliant view of what lie underneath the Black Lake.

She had indeed travelled far beneath the castle. From the amount of light that the room was permitted told her she was very deep under the Lake. Some enchantment must keep the window from bursting with the weight of the water. In wonder, she peered out. She could see a forest of water plants in the distance.

Suddenly a great, stretching tentacle unwrapped and tapped at the window. A lesser species of the kraken it must have been or some sort, or some very large octopus. Hermione marveled at its beauty and strength.

As she watched she saw a glint in the window. She turned to see what caught the light, and there it was. A very tall mirror with an inscription on the frame. She knew it from Harry and Ron's description…the Mirror of Erised.

All around the air grew still and she became aware once more of the dripping of the leak. At first what she saw was only her own reflection. And then…as she stood there appeared behind her a tall figure. He was smiling, laughing at some joke. His red hair was disheveled and he looked kindly at her, his eyes full of love.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She knew it wasn't real. She knew that as she reached out beside her (while managing to keep the rest of herself perfectly still as if moving too much would scare him away) that she would not find his warm hand fumbling to hold hers. She knew that as his hands crossed over her stomach to hold her from behind that they were not really there. She closed her eyes and the hot tears grazed her cheeks.

When she opened her eyes she was astonished and quickly searched the room around her. Checking herself, she peered back into the mirror. Two small children were running in circles around her. Fred was laughing and swatting at one as they passed. They were the same size, their hair a matching shade of orange and she could almost hear them giggling in small voices much like miniature versions of Fred and George's. One stopped the running to look up at Hermione.

Her heart stopped. His face was freckled and his hair was red, but his eyes were hers, the same shape and shade. He smiled at her and giggled again childishly. The other ran up beside him. He was a perfect copy of his brother. Hermione, in a stupor, lifted her gaze to examine her own face and found that Fred had an arm around her, smiling down at their own twin boys.

She ran. She could not catch her breath and she could not see. She had to remind herself that the mirror did not show what might be or what might have been but only what she most desired. There was no way to know if…if they would have had twins or sons or children at all. She only knew that her heart ached within her so deeply that she longed to tear it out and burn it. She clutched at her chest as she wept and gasped for air in a stairwell she had never seen before.

She could never find the underwater room again.

* * *

**Years Later**

She found herself watching Hugo and Rose, wondering how different they'd look with a different Weasley for a father.

She'd married Ron, and without regret. He truly loved her and as much as he helped her, she was helping him to heal too. They'd both lost so much. It had taken a few years for her to come around to Ron, who had all the same tender steadfastness as his brother. Ron waited and waited. And though it would never be the same, Hermione knew she was loved and that's all she could ask for.

Still, every night, she read through the words of the letter Fred had sent her and Ron had faithfully delivered once he had come back to them.

I remain unabated

I have waited

And wait still.

Though others have berated:

I love you

And always will.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this fanfic! I tried to stay as true to the story as possible, working in ways to put Fred and Hermione together in the spaces between the lines. Tell me what you think! Leave your reviews below ^u^**


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